


Yours to love, yours to hate, yours.

by 507erin



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Confusion, F/F, Love?, Mostly angst because fuck life killing eve is ending, One Shot, Rage, The fuck are we suppose to do now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-25 03:27:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30082755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/507erin/pseuds/507erin
Summary: This is basically just a remix of the earlier episodes of season 3, specifically episode 3.
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	Yours to love, yours to hate, yours.

Eve Polastri feels dead.

Her only reminder that she isn’t is the emptiness she feels as soon as she opens her eyes.

_I wake up and I think “again really, I have to do this again?”_

She thinks about her. Eve hates thinking about her. She’s left her life in shambles. Ripped through it like a tornado and left her to clean up the mess.

But how does one clean up the mess of a dead best friend? An estranged husband? The loss of her only remaining friend?

Its simple. You can’t. This, she is aware after many fail attempts of trying. She has stopped trying and instead, looks towards the future.

But it’s unknown. She sees black, a void of nothing but mystery. However, there’s one indicator. A single face. Blonde hair. Bright and smooth skin. Cat like eyes that are almost entirely inaccessible. She shouldn’t think about her. She knows this. But she can’t help herself. _When I try to think of my future, I just see your face over and over again._

Villanelle feels alive. The most alive she has felt in months.

Because Eve is alive.

When she took Konstantin’s advice; _you’re a mess, you have to kill her_ , she did so with finality.

She was just so tired of the way Eve treated her, her inability to grasp how much power they held.

They were the end of the world. Villanelle knew this ever since the day Eve stabbed her, marking her not with a love bite but a way that was more **them**.

When she shot her, she was putting an end to the game.

If Eve no longer wanted to play, what point did she serve?

If she couldn’t have her, no one could.

The following months had been so boring.

She found a woman to marry because she liked her shoes, but honestly, she only liked that her hair reminded her of the Asian woman that broke her heart.

When Dasha came and threw her back into the clutches of the twelve, she was happy. She thinks.

It had been awhile that she has felt the thrill of anything and the rush killing provided always proved satisfying.

She was wrong.

She felt a twinge of something, for a moment. But as soon as her target limps, she was back to feeling nothing. _I’m just so bored._

But now she feels alive, because Eve, Eve is alive.

She has to find her.

Eve texts her husband (is she really even allowed to still call him that) for the umpteenth time.

No response.

She sighs. She feels her lungs expanding to make room for the air and decides against letting it back out.

This would be a nice way to die. Maybe as her eyes flutter shut, she could see her life before _her_. Boring, but normal and murder free. 

She breathes out.

The bus stops moving, and people start to get off and get on.

She pays no mind to them and stares out the window.

She sees a figure coming closer to her and only then does she allow her head to turn. And she sees her.

If this were a movie, people would be screaming for her to run. **_HELLO! THIS IS THE PSYCHOPATH THAT SHOT YOU AND LEFT YOU TO DIE! SCREAM! MOVE! GO!_**

Eve fucking hates those people. Yet it turns out, she was one of those people.

Because she can’t move. She can’t think. All she can do is stare.

As Villanelle shuffles closer, Eve itches to scream to the heavens and ask the universe, why her?

Eve prepares herself for what is about to happen. She thinks, maybe she has come to finish the job once and for all.

Eve is helpless to do anything. Even though someone has tried to kill her and one of the biggest crime organizations probably want her dead, she has not gathered the sense to buy a gun.

So, she prepares. She waits for the inevitable. It doesn’t come. All she gets for her pain, her heartache, the bullet wound that still fucking hurts is a swaggered filled “Hi, Eve.”

That does it.

Eve sees red as she attacks Villanelle.

Villanelles eyes widen and her nose crinkles at Eve’s sudden burst of fury.

Has Eve gone mad??? She feels the need to explain, “I’m not here for you!”

Her hand flies up to her nose because ow! Eve seriously just hit her!

Villanelle easily pushes Eve off of her, moving her further and further down the aisle and baring her teeth while doing so.

She has missed this. She has missed Eve.

Eve’s anger slowly evaporates as Villanelle straddles her. She breathes heavily. _God, I’m tired._

“Smell me, Eve. What do I smell of to you?”

Eve should turn her in. They’re on a public train. It wouldn’t take much to call for help, to get this psychotic woman off of her and take the first steps to claiming back her life.

She kisses her.

Villanelle makes a surprised sound.

Eve often forgets that though she is a killer, a monster that bathes in blood and glory, she is still human. She still has wants and desires and her greatest one, is Eve.

Their eyes remain open. It seems befitting of them.

Villanelle will not believe this moment if she doesn’t see it, so she looks at Eve. Eve wants to make sure Villanelle doesn’t suddenly slit her throat, so she looks at Villanelle.

When Eve ends the kiss, she feels it. The millisecond of arousal that only Villanelle can provide.

But she forces more weight on her shoulder and she feels that, as well: **pain, irritation, agony**. She does this when her feelings for Villanelle prove to be too powerful. She cannot forget who Villanelle is, what she has done. The discomfort of her wound holds her to the ground and reminds her that they are a crash waiting to happen. Any leap they take will surely end in a splat. They do not get a happily ever after.

The arousal fades. Its replaced by anger and Eve thinks **_fuck_** her.

So, she headbutts her.

Eve falls to the floor; Villanelle climbs off of her and stumbles out the bus.

Villanelle feels every atom of her being unite. She feels her heart expand, can hear it beating in her chest.

She can still feel the tingle on her lips.

She closes her eyes and allows herself to sway in the wind.

She feels weightless, can hear, and see nothing but Eve and their most recent interaction.

She is brewing, is consumed, by her love of Eve.

She was right.

Eve was hers.

Eve returns home after work. She is disheveled, confused, and pissed.

Why did she kiss her?

Nothing good has came of her life since they met.

_Choices, Eve. Its all about choices._

Eve immediately goes for the wine and doesn’t bother getting a glass.

She takes a swig, can feel the alcohol burning down her throat as she does so.

She takes it to bed with her, not caring as some spills on her carpet.

She sits on her bed and sighs. She feels like all she ever does is sigh now.

She lays her head on her pillow.

A voice rings out. Her voice.

Eve looks around frantically until she realizes where the noise is coming from.

She picks up her pillow and finds a bear. She rips it open to find the heart inside.

_Admit it, Eve._

Eve nearly cries. She thought she was _totally done with her, done with that. End of story._

_You wish I was here._

But her hand is pulling the heart closer instead of smashing it to bits.

_Admit it, Eve._

Its at her ear. Her eyes are closed.

_You wish I was here._

Villanelle is in her hotel room.

She thought about going out and fucking someone that resembled Eve but decided against it.

She felt it would be an injustice to the emotions currently coursing through her.

She lays on her bed, naked.

She is wet, radiating with desire. Three digits force their way inside. She takes herself as she imagines Eve would.

Rough and brutal.

She comes with Eves name on her lips.

Villanelle doesn’t need to admit it, she knows. She wishes Eve was here.


End file.
